Idle Talk
by HazelI'd
Summary: A night out.


_So this whole story was born out of a snippet of dialogue I found in a writing prompt while searching Pinterest one night - and the need to get Mike Cutter into a little bit of trouble to cause Connie to say it to him. (See if you can guess what it is after you read the story!) And also because I just needed something fun to do while I was stressed out by real life work stuff lately. This story takes place very early in their relationship, but still in my own personal made up timeline for them. Please let me know what you think. As always, anything you recognize - doesn't belong to me and is used with only the utmost respect._

IDLE TALK

Mike Cutter glanced at his watch before turning his eyes once again to the window in front of him. Connie had a better view from this apartment than she'd had from her previous apartment in the same building. Granted, he'd only seen her old view once - right before she had moved to Los Angeles. Her mother had suffered a stroke, and Connie was going west to help with her care and recovery. She was as upset and stressed out as Mike had ever seen her. And though part of him had longed to tell her not to go, to stay in New York, to stay with him, he knew the time wasn't right. They just weren't "there" yet, and he knew he could not add to her burdens. So he simply came to lend his support in anyway that he could, which at the time was by helping her move most of her larger pieces of furniture into storage. He remembered, it was late January, cold and miserable. The weather matched both of their moods, but he gave her as much help as he could, gave her a lingering hug, and then he let her go. And he hoped that, somehow, this would not be the end of them before they had really even had a chance to begin,

Mike shook his head, clearing those memories from his mind as the ghost of a smile crossed his face. Yes, Connie had a much better view, and that was not the only thing that had changed. It took them awhile, but they finally got everything figured out. Now, Connie was back in New York, and more importantly, they we're together. Mike had worried, just a bit, that the fact that they could now see each other face to face everyday might cause Connie to reconsider being with him. After all, he knew, he was still a workaholic, could still be somewhat myopic with his attention when in the middle of a big case. He felt a little, as he always had where Connie was concerned, that she was way out of his league. But their relationship had flourished in the month since Connie had returned to the east coast. They each could sense that this was real, this was "it" for both of them. They realized that this relationship was just different from any they'd had in the past, more important. Mike certainly felt that way. The small box hidden away in his sock drawer containing a diamond ring that he'd bought months before Connie had even come back to New York was evidence of that. He loved her, in a way he had never loved any other woman. He was determined to do everything he could to make this work.

Tonight would be their first big social engagement as a couple. A cocktail party fundraiser for Project Safe Childhood, one of the community outreach programs championed by the U.S. Attorney's Office for the Southern District of New York. As one of the newest of about 220 assistant U.S. attorneys, Connie had been invited to the event. She didn't hesitate to ask MIke to accompany her.

"Are you sure?" Mike had asked. He'd had more than a few run-ins with lawyers at the U.S. Attorney's office in the past. He did not want to put Connie behind any eight balls with her new colleagues by showing up with him so early in her tenure at her new job.

"What do you mean 'Am I sure?'" Connie had said in return. "Listen, Mike, I didn't only come back to New York because of this job. You are a pretty significant part of my life. Of course I want you to go with me."

So here he was, dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a silver tie and one of those silly matching pocket squares, waiting for his girlfriend to finish getting ready.

"Sorry I'm taking so long," Mike heard Connie's voice from behind. He turned, and his breath caught in his throat. Connie had stopped to grab onto the edge of the couch to steady herself as she slipped on her shoes. She was dressed in a black cocktail dress that fell to just above her knees. Lace overlaid the satin slip lining of the dress, with lace sleeves that hit right at Connie's elbows. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face and shoulders. Mike thought she looked beautiful,

"Wow," he said, coming forward to take her hand. "You look stunning."

Connie leaned over to kiss him. "Sweet talker," she murmured in his ear.

They walked together into the Event Venue of 48 Lounge in Midtown Manhattan. The party was well underway, with lots of people mingling around in different groups. Connie quickly found a few of her colleagues and introduced Mike. After some small talk, they began to make their way to the bar. Mike noticed the Chief of the Criminal Division of the U.S. Attorney's office sitting at a nearby table. Connie followed his eyes and chuckled. "Do you need to go do some networking?" she asked.

Mike shrugged. "Jack used to call it banking an IOU. Couldn't hurt." He smiled hesitantly, "Do you mind?"

Connie just smiled. "Go," she said, nodding her head toward the table. "I'll get the drinks."

Mike glanced around quickly, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I'll be right back."

She smiled, shaking her head as she watched him go. There was quite a crowd near the bar so Connie joined the line to wait. She was beginning to inch her way toward the bartender when she heard her name.

"Connie? Connie Rubirosa?"

She turned to see Neil Tyler, another assistant U.S. attorney. They had not crossed paths since she had started her new job, but Connie and Mike had met with him briefly several years ago on the case involving Martin Winston. A case Connie would rather forget, as Winston had tried to take his frustrations out on Mike with a gun in the men's room of the courthouse.

"Mr. Tyler, hello," Connie smiled, "Nice to see you."

"Nice to see you, too," he said, his eyes traveling up and down her body as he extended his hand. "And please, call me Neil."

Connie nodded as she shook his hand, then turned back toward the front of the line, which was still not moving, as Tyler continued. "The California sunshine suits you, Connie."

"Oh, thank you, but I've been back in New York for over a month," Connie said, "I'm actually working as an AUSA now."

"Ahh, finally decided to join the winning team? We'll have to try to grab lunch together sometime," Tyler said. "I'm surprised Mike Cutter didn't try to lure you back to the DA's office. Did you hear he was made bureau chief for the special victims unit?"

Connie just smiled and nodded as the line moved forward. Neil fell in line beside her as they finally reached the bartender. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked in a low voice.

"Mr. Tyler, uh, Neil," Connie said kindly, "I'm actually here with someone…" she trailed off.

"Ah, say no more," Tyler said, holding up a hand as Connie collected a glass of red wine for herself and a scotch for Mike. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

Connie gave him a pained smile. "Nice to see you again." She turned and scanned the room for Mike, rolling her eyes a bit as she made her way in the opposite direction of Neil Tyler.

She finally caught up with Mike. "Did you secure your IOU?" she asked, handing him his drink.

"I think so," Mike said, taking a sip from his glass. "Run into an old friend by the bar?" he asked.

Connie snickered. "Hardly. You remember Neil Tyler?"

"Uh huh," Mike answered.

"Mike," Connie cautioned. "I can tell exactly what you're thinking. Stop it."

"What? I didn't say a word," Mike protested, a half-smile sliding across his face.

"You didn't have to," she said.

Mike leaned closer to her. "I've told you before, it's a fairly common occurrence for other men to find you attractive." He dropped his voice to just above a whisper. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Connie hooked her arm through his. "You have nothing to worry about," she said as they made their way to a table.

The fundraiser had been an unqualified success, but the evening was winding down. Connie sent Mike to retrieve their jackets while she said her goodbyes to her boss. Mike was just making his way out of the coat check room when he ran into Neil Tyler.

"Mike Cutter," Tyler said. He made no move to shake hands. "Surprised to see you here."

"Neil Tyler," Mike replied, He didn't extend his hand, either.

"Didn't know we'd have the company of anyone from the DA's office here tonight," Tyler said. "You know, I ran into a former colleague of yours earlier. Did you know Connie Rubirosa was back in town?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Mike answered.

"Couldn't convince her to come back to work for you, huh?" Tyler asked.

Mike just smiled. "Neil, I didn't even try,"

Tyler chuckled dismissively. "She told me she's here with someone tonight," he said, looking around the room to try to find a likely candidate. Mike almost hated to burst his bubble.

Almost.

"She's here with me," Mike said nonchalantly. "Or rather, I'm here with her."

"You?" Tyler asked incredulously. "You and Connie?"

Mike simply nodded. He saw Connie approaching them.

"Well, must be something about that DA's office," he said, condescension bleeding through in his tone of voice. "Everyone always said you were Jack McCoy's protégé. Or maybe you're just lucky that you snapped her up before he did. Quite a system of advancement going on over there."

Connie had overheard this last comment, and saw MIke's face harden. She bit her lip, afraid that this was about to get even more ugly.

Mike took a step toward the other man, leveled his gaze at him and lowered his voice in hopes of not attracting too much attention. "Tyler, if you had any sense at all, you would know even the thought of such a thing is ludicrous. Connie's worked hard for everything she's achieved. She's been back here a month, and she's already been put in charge of a joint task force. I'll bet you've never been given that kind of responsibility have you, you sanctimonious jackass!"

"Mike!" Connie stepped forward and took his arm, her voice hard." "Let's go."

Mike's eyes bore into Tyler's for a few more seconds before he finally let Connie lead him away. They made their way out of the building, neither of them speaking as Mike hailed a cab. He could read the irritation on Connie's face, and was starting to get a little worried that he had, in fact, just screwed up.

The cab ride back to Connie's apartment was relatively quick, but quiet. Finally, Mike broke the silence.

"Connie, I'm sorry," he said.

She shook her head with a sigh. "Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you or… shove you off the Brooklyn Bridge," she told him.

"Can I pick?" Mike asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Connie gave him a pointed look as the cab pulled up to the curb in front of her building. She paid the driver then looked over at Mike. "Are you coming up?" she asked.

"Do you want me to?" Mike asked in return.

Connie narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at him and exited the vehicle. She stood, holding the door open. "Come on," she said simply.

Mike stepped out beside Connie, and together they made their way inside.

Their walk through the lobby and ride up in the elevator were both silent. Mike spent the time looking at Connie, trying to figure out exactly how angry she was, as she stared straight ahead. What had he done that was so bad, after all? A guy had made a rude, disparaging comment about the woman he loved, and Mike had defended her. That it was a man who had hit on Connie earlier in the evening, he had to admit, played a rather large part in Mike's reaction to Neil Tyler. He knew Connie could more than hold her own and did not need Mike to swoop in and rescue her. He was neither an inordinately possessive, nor a particularly jealous man. He completely trusted Connie and believed her when she said he had nothing to worry about.

And yet, there was still a small part of him that questioned why Connie was with him. The part that was the little boy whose father virtually disappeared from his life at age ten. The law student who was relegated to accepting a pity invitation to spend the holidays with one of his professors because he had no other family nearby to go home to. The vulnerable part that was hidden deep inside the confident demeanor that he projected to the world. Why would a woman as amazing as this want to be with him?

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, signaling their arrival at Connie's floor. Mike held the door and gestured forward, then followed Connie down the hall, and finally into her apartment after she unlocked the door. Connie hung her jacket on the coat tree, then held her hands out with a soft smile, waiting for Mike to hand over his own jacket. After she hung it up as well, she turned to him. "Pour us some drinks?" she asked quietly. "I'm going to go lose these shoes. Then we'll talk."

They sat together on the couch in Connie's living room. The light shone dimly from a single lamp on the end table. Mike stared down into the glass in his hands, not exactly sure where to start.

"I am sorry Connie," he said quietly. "I know you said not to worry about him, but when Tyler opened his mouth about you, and how 'advancement' works at the Manhattan DA's office, I… I just," he shook his head and looked down at his glass again. "It just made me mad. That anyone, ever, would call into question how hard you've worked and what you've accomplished, especially that… that…"

" 'Sanctimonious jackass' I believe is the phrase you used," Connie said, a small smile on her face as she dipped her head to meet his eyes. He looked at her briefly, then dropped his eyes again as he shook his head.

"Mike, I'm not mad at you," Connie said, reaching a hand out to turn his face towards hers. "I was a little irritated that you let Neil Tyler get to you. I mean, c'mon, we've both been around Foley Square long enough to know how people will talk. I've expected it, especially considering the mistake I made in the past," Connie paused for a moment, knowing they were both thinking about Marcus Woll. "Quite frankly, and I think you're already well aware of this, that's about the only thing that kept me from letting something happen between us while we were still working together."

Mike placed his glass on the coffee table in front of them and nodded. He sat back and stretched his arm out behind her on the back of the couch. He had known that. If he was being completely honest with himself, he had been attracted to her practically since the moment that they'd met. But he had long ago established unwritten rules for himself regarding workplace romances - even before he knew about Connie's past with Woll. That, coupled with the fact that he truly believed that he'd never really stand a chance with a woman like Connie and his tendency to, from time to time, do something completely stupid - like announce in open court that he'd once ordered her to use her attractiveness to manipulate a juror - kept him from pushing things too far with her.

It didn't take long after they reconnected once Connie's mother stabilized for Mike to begin pursuing her relentlessly. Connie was somewhat hesitant at first, if only because of the distance separating them and her fear of getting so close to having with Mike what she had always wanted, only to have it crash and burn because the entire country kept them apart.

But once that unspoken barrier that they had put between themselves was removed, the physical distance didn't really matter. They had established a solid foundation of friendship during their years of working together. It was the most natural thing in the world to nurture that friendship as it grew into something more.

But still, Mike worried. "You don't deserve that," He said earnestly, reaching out to push a lock of dark hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. "You don't deserve to have people talking about you behind your back out in Foley Square or anywhere else, questioning your integrity and your professionalism, all because you're with me."

"But you said it yourself," Connie countered, "I've barely been there a month, and they've already put me in charge of a joint task force. And despite Neil Tyler being clueless, lots of people already know that we are together." She arched an eyebrow at him. "I must be doing something right." Connie scooted closer to Mike, looking him directly in the eyes as she continued. "I am right where I want to be, and it has very little to do with a job. I'm here because I want to be here, because I want to be with you. And I'm not going anywhere. I love you Mike." She placed her hand on his cheek and leaned toward him. "And as for the rest of them, let 'em talk."

Mike just looked at her, wondering again just what exactly he had done to deserve her, this breathtaking woman in his life. He had rarely experienced this kind of happiness and contentment in his life, and he sometimes had trouble believing it wouldn't just disappear. It was time to start trusting it a little more. He smiled at her. "Still want to push me off the Brooklyn Bridge? He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Connie reached out to take hold of Mike's tie, slowly pulling him toward her. "I think I'll go with the other option," she said as she kissed his lips. Mike slipped one hand around her waist to pull her closer, the other threading through her hair. When the need for air finally caused them to break their kiss, Mike looked deep into Connie's eyes.

"You have always been good at looking out for me, at not letting me go too far, at not letting me get too far out on that ledge and reigning me in before I really screwed something up." He paused and took both of her hands in his, seemingly studying them before looking into her eyes. With a deep breath he continued. "I'm not the most expressive or romantic guy, and God knows you deserve all that and more, but you are very important to me. This," he gestured back and forth between them, "is very important to me. I need you to help me not mess this up."

Connie pulled his hands to her lips, kissing them gently. She looked at him, his brilliant blue eyes, his fair hair now falling over his forehead from all the times he'd nervously run his hands through it on the cab ride here. She knew him, so well. She knew that he was brilliant, eloquent, hard working, determined. She also knew that he could be thoughtless, single-minded, and could absolutely infuriate her at times. She would be the first to say he wasn't perfect.

 _But he's perfect for me,_ she thought.

She squeezed his hands. "I promise."

Mike leaned forward and captured her lips again. After several minutes and long, luxurious kisses, the couch and her dress became too restrictive for Connie. She stood up, took Mike's hand, and led him down the hall to her bedroom.

Hours later, Connie woke in the dark stillness of the night. Mike slept peacefully next to her, snoring slightly. She slid quietly out of bed, found Mike's t-shirt, abandoned on the floor from earlier, and slipped it on to ward off the night time chill as she made her way to the bathroom. When she returned she found MIke stirring, reaching out to her side of the bed. "Connie?" he asked groggily, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"I'm right here," she whispered. "Go back to sleep. It's still early."

"Alarm set?" he asked, as Connie spooned up behind him. Mike took her hand and held it close to his heart.

"No alarm. Saturday, remember? Party last night," Connie said.

"Oh yeah. Party, You looked really, really beautiful," Mike mumbled. "And I really, really wanted to deck that guy, but I figured you'd get really, really mad at me."

Connie snuggled closer to him, stroking his chest. She smiled to herself, thinking, _he's not quite as eloquent when half asleep as he is in the courtroom, but he's awfully cute._ She kissed her way from the back of his neck, across his shoulder, and to his ear where she whispered, "That would have been really, really hot."

Mike turned in her arms, pinning her to the bed. He caught her chuckle as he kissed her passionately. He was suddenly wide awake.


End file.
